


A Game

by QuellerKay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Party, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, New Year's Eve, Unwanted Kisses - Or Maybe They're Wanted?, slipping on ice, surprise kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuellerKay/pseuds/QuellerKay
Summary: A game over the holidays goes a little too far. Or does it?
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	A Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ribbonofsunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonofsunshine/gifts), [copperboom226](https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperboom226/gifts).



> a/n: Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year! This piece is dedicated to Helene and Jenn! Love you, ladies!

“Your turn, Malfoy.”

Draco grimaced into his mug. “Fine. Hand over the Veritaserum.”

“You’ve chosen that every time,” Blaise said from across the table with a raised brow. He didn’t reach for the tiny bottle. 

Draco sat with his back towards the rest of the occupants in the Great Hall. Since his return to Hogwarts for his eighth year - his _mandatory_ return, per the Wizengamot’s decision - he preferred the view of the wall.

Theo nodded. “Yeah, mate, it’s about time you chose Imperio.”

“What, are you afraid of a little loss of control?” Blaise lifted the corners of his mouth into a smirk. 

“No.” He hid a swallow as best as he could. He could fight the effects of the Veritaserum with his Occlumency. That’s why he always chose it when they played this stupid game. But there wasn’t anything he could do about an Imperio. He couldn’t fight that.

The men across the table leaned into each other and whispered. 

Draco angled his body so he could glance over his shoulder to survey the Hall. His nostrils flared at the amount of garland and babbles that filled the space. With the holiday approaching, most of the other students had gone home for the break. He could make out a handful of Hufflepuffs, two pairs of Ravenclaws, and one bushy-haired Gryffindor. He straightened as he faced the wall again, Blaise and Theo still deliberating. 

He had managed to avoid her at all costs since September. _Of course she would return,_ he had thought at the sight of Hermione Granger on his first day back. She was one of the most famous witches alive; a war heroine for fuck’s sake. Yet the swotty bint still felt the need to come back to finish her N.E.W.T.s; as if the Brightest Witch of Her Age wouldn’t have been given a free pass.

He ground his teeth together as he watched Blaise nod, a nasty smile filling Theo’s face.

Blaise lifted one hand to his mouth to cover his lips, the other lowering his wand under the table. _“Imperio,”_ he said under his breath.

It was the most wonderful feeling. Draco’s mind cleared as every ounce of worry flitted away, and he was filled with total elation. His feet moved of their own accord and he was suddenly gliding through the Hall. Large, flowy ribbons framing a set of doors passed in his peripheral vision on the right. A sweep of shiny dark locks brushed past his robes. And before he knew it, he was walking along a wall, though it was slightly off from the one he usually stared at. 

Far in the distance - maybe in the fields beyond the Manor - were familiar laughs. 

His feet halted and his body lowered until he was sitting on a bench, finding a girl with amber eyes and a furrowed brow before him. There was a split second in which neither of them moved. Then, he saw hands - _his_ hands - grasp the sides of her face and hold her steady as his lips connected with hers.

A little huff of breath left her at the contact, and just like that, the sound in the room became clear again. The weight of the moment crashed in on him as his vision fully focused on the girl in front of him. Granger’s look of surprise was swiftly replaced with indignation, and as her expression turned, she lifted a hand to his cheek, smacking him hard.

Draco tried to process what had just happened. He tried to force his brain to catch up with his body, wanting to send her a nasty sneer; wanting to grip her wrist and tell her never to lay a hand on him again. But he couldn’t do anything like that. He moved as if he were still under the curse, standing and striding out of the Hall as swiftly and coolly as he could. He ignored the howling from the Slytherin table and the countless eyes he knew were on him. 

\--

She looked for him all week. In the Great Hall. In the corridors. In the snowy grounds. But there was no sight of the broody blonde anywhere. 

On the morning of Christmas Eve, she trudged through the snow to the foot of the West Tower. She had just received news that Bill and Fleur were having a baby and wanted to get her congratulatory letter sent before the rush of letters and gifts through the Owlery.

The Weasleys had invited her to stay with them over the Christmas break, but she had declined. Harry and Ron were only scheduled to get two days off from their Auror training over the whole break, and with the awkward _let’s-revisit-this-after-your-year-at-Hogwarts-and-my-year-of-training_ conversation that she and Ron had had, she was not as inclined to go. She missed her parents terribly, but until their memories could be properly restored by the Healers - disguised to them as Muggle psychologists - she wasn’t allowed to visit. So, she had contended to spend a quiet Christmas at Hogwarts.

The snow crunched beneath her boots until she reached the steps of the tower. She ascended the stairs, careful not to slip on the ice. When she made it to the top, she hit her boots against the stone walls; several owls jolted at the sound. She sent the letter off attached to the leg of a school screech owl. As she descended the stairs, she clutched the frozen railing, thankful she had worn her thicker gloves. 

She rounded a corner and lost her footing, slipping on the sheet of ice that covered the step. Her hand gripped the railing tighter, and she prepared to hit her head, but she didn’t. She was caught by a hand that steadied her and an arm that wrapped around her lower back. 

She gasped instinctually. “Thanks,” she breathed.

It took her a moment to process who had helped her. The steel eyes and platinum undercut should have given it away at first sight, but it hadn’t registered right away that Draco Malfoy had been the one to keep her from falling. He held her there, clinging to her tightly, and they both breathed in sync. 

When she righted herself, he snapped his hands away from her body. She glared at him. Although she had been looking for him all week, she lost all words after the last few moments. She had thought of so much to say, yet just then, she couldn’t think of anything.

He returned her glare and pushed past her, seeming not to care at all if she fell again.

“Wait,” she said, turning to him and reaching out to grasp his wrist.

He tried to pull away from her, but she squeezed tight, refusing to let him leave.

 _“Don’t touch me,”_ he snarled.

She huffed. _“That’s_ rich, considering what you did the other day.”

His nostrils flared, and she let go of him, seeing that he was ready for a fight. _Good,_ she thought. 

“I don’t know what you were thinking, but you can’t just _kiss_ someone out of nowhere,” she said, her voice carrying through the wind.

 _“Shut. Up.”_ He was gritting his teeth.

 _“No._ You can’t just take what you want, whenever you want it.”

His brows raised with his scoff.

_“What?”_

“I don’t want you,” he hissed.

He was deflecting. He was embarrassed or nervous.

 _“_ I just…I don’t get it,” she said.

“Oh, no. _The Brightest Witch of Our Age_ doesn’t understand something.”

She rolled her eyes and carefully walked a few steps up to close the distance he had put between them. “Why did you kiss me?”

He got closer to her, descending the step that separated them. “Stop saying that.” 

She grit her teeth, staring at him like he was an unsolved rune.

Neither of them moved or said a word for a long beat.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he finally said in mock politeness. He turned towards the top of the tower and started up the stairs.

She grasped his wrist again. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know how you felt about me.”

Something flickered in his eyes. It was so brief - so fleeting - that if she had blinked, she might have missed it.

“Oh, sorry,” a voice behind her said.

She dropped Malfoy’s wrist and turned to see a fifth year Gryffindor a few steps below. “No, it’s fine,” she said, offering the girl a weak smile. 

There was a crunching up the steps ahead of her, and she whipped back, catching a glimpse of Malfoy’s robes billowing around the corner. He was gone.

The Gryffindor passed her with a grimace, and then Hermione was alone. 

She descended the stairs, running through the conversation in her head as she held onto the railing. 

\--

“We didn’t tell you because we knew you wouldn’t have come if we had,” Theo said. He was standing with Blaise, blocking the doors in their common room. It was almost ten o’clock at night on Christmas Eve, and the room was filled with about a dozen of the students who had stayed behind for the holidays.

Draco ground his teeth together. “I’m not in the mood to party,” he said.

“Then don’t _party._ Just…sit down. Have a drink.” Blaise summoned a glass of Firewhisky and ushered him to a dark leather sofa by the fire. 

He settled into the spot, contending to stay for half an hour, then quietly head to his room when the other men were drunk and distracted. He sipped his drink slowly, knowing how to take his time; he couldn’t let his guard down. As the minutes ticked by, people filtered in and out of the room. After twenty minutes, there were nearly twice as many students than when he had first arrived. Draco watched them come and go out of the corner of his eye. There was no sight of a girl with amber eyes and long, curly hair. 

At some point, a Ravenclaw girl sat on the sofa. She sat at the opposite end from him, keeping her distance. She was leaning over the table to talk with a younger Slytherin girl he didn’t know very well. Theo had told him that the party was a chance for the sixth, seventh, and few eighth years to put aside old differences and come together. Draco had tried not to gag at the idea. He would rather lick an Inferius than mingle with _Hufflepuffs_. But he didn’t have much choice in the matter.

Theo was seated across from him, attempting to explain how smaller doses of Ashwinder eggs and Powdered Moonstone combined could give one a twenty minute kick of both elation and adrenaline. He listened and nodded, waiting for his opportunity to get away. Blaise didn’t make it any easier to slip out, as he was standing just beside the seating area flirting terribly with a seventh year. 

Draco took a long sip from his Firewhisky, downing the rest of the drink. Theo had stopped talking and looked beyond Draco’s head. _Perfect._ He was going to make his exit. Placing his glass on the table, he made to stand, but Theo was too quick. 

“Granger!” Theo yelled. 

He froze. 

“Granger! Hey, come here!”

 _“Stop,”_ Draco managed to hiss.

He could see Blaise and several others turn towards the woman Theo called for. 

She bounded over to them, stopping next to the bloke Blaise was talking to. 

Draco didn’t look up. He saw her white trainers in the corner of his vision. They were off-white, really; dirty from whatever it was she did in her free time. He had assumed she never left the library, but her shoes were telling a different story. 

“Would you like to sit down?” Theo asked. “We were about to play a game.” 

Draco’s eyes snapped to his. They were daggers piercing into Theo’s thoughts, telling him to knock it off. He may have been good at Occlumency, but he wasn’t a skilled Legilimens. Regardless, he bore his eyes into Theo’s and forced him to hear what his mind was yelling at him. 

“Oh, no, that’s alright. Thank you,” a soft voice spoke to his left. “I wasn’t going to stay long.”

He chanced a glance up at her. It was the wrong time to do so. Her eyes had flickered to his just then, and the heat that was already showing on her face grew even more. 

“Come on, stay,” Blaise said, ushering her to the spot on the sofa next to him.

His breath caught when she passed, but he hid it well. She smelled of vanilla and pine. 

Blaise walked away for a moment and returned with a glass. “Here.” He handed her the drink. “Have you ever played Truth or Dare? I heard it’s a Muggle game.”

Draco’s nostrils flared.

“No. I actually don’t have many Muggle friends,” she said. 

“Ah, well, neither do I.” Blaise winked, raised a glass to her, and drank. 

She drank, too.

Theo had gathered a few others to join, and they made room in the sitting area so everyone could play. Granger had shuffled closer to the girl at the other end of the sofa; another girl Draco didn’t know sat between them. 

“Alright, who’s first?” Theo asked.

Draco swallowed. He needed to get out of there. He didn’t trust them at all, and was suddenly worried about what _exactly_ had been in his drink.

“I’ll go.” The man Blaise had been talking with raised his hand and looked around. “Used to play this back in Whitby over the summers. I’ll start with dare.” The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk.

Theo leaned in to whisper with a sixth year girl sitting next to him. “Okay, okay,” he could be heard saying. “I dare you to spend the rest of this game shirtless.” He burst out laughing.

Draco didn’t miss the wink Theo sent to Blaise. _These fuckers._

The man was far too happy to take his shirt off, spinning the fabric in the air above his head as the others laughed and cheered. 

He glanced at Granger again; she was looking down, brushing a fly-away hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. 

“Malfoy, you’re up,” someone he thought was named Jack said. 

“I’m not playing,” he said coolly. 

“Come off it, mate-”

“I said I’m not playing.” He kept his voice as light as he could while remaining firm in his decision.

A few people grumbled, but he didn’t care.

The girl next to him chose truth and blabbed about her favourite snogging spot in the castle.

“I guess I’ll do truth, too,” Granger said when it was her turn. She was clicking the nail of her thumb against the nail of her middle finger; a nervous tick. 

Theo sniggered as he leaned across the group to confer with Blaise. 

_Fuck._ He knew this couldn’t be good. He watched as Theo sat back in his chair and met Granger’s eyes. 

“Did you like the kiss with Malfoy?”

Draco stood immediately. He would put an end to this right then and there. “That’s-”

“Yes.”

He looked at her then. She clapped her hand over her mouth, and her eyes had gone wide.

“I didn’t mean to say that!” she said. “I don’t- I didn’t-” She stood, too, and was bolting out the door in a matter of seconds.

Theo was howling, Blaise had a satisfied smirk, and the rest of the group either stifled snickers or looked as shocked as Granger had.

\--

It was her turn to avoid him.

She had tickled the pear in the painting to get to the kitchens every day that week, staying away from the Great Hall completely. As much as she had wanted to enjoy walks in the snow and trips to the library, she avoided the corridors and common rooms throughout the school like a plague. Instead, she stayed in the Gryffindor Tower as much as she could, re-reading every book she had access to. For Christmas, Harry and Ron had sent her _Rudiments of Runelore,_ a Muggle book with a basic introduction to rune translation. It was a bit too elementary for her, but she did appreciate the Old Norse rune poems, which helped pass the time.

She had spent her week in solitude ruminating on what had happened at the Slytherin Christmas party. She hadn’t meant to say _yes_ at all; she had just said it, and it got her wondering if she shouldn’t have drank the supposed Firewhisky. Regardless, she had said it out loud. She _liked_ the kiss with Malfoy. It was unwarranted and unexpected, and she didn’t regret slapping him as he pulled away, but it was… _good._

In the lead-up to the new year, Hermione was preparing herself to see Malfoy again. She refused to miss the celebration in the Great Hall, and had promised herself she would suck it up and attend, despite her embarrassment.

On New Years’ Eve, she shuffled through the clothes in her trunk. She had nothing appropriate to wear for the event; only practical jumpers and a slew of jeans and school skirts. She added fabric to a skirt of hers: two strips that wrapped up around her shoulders like suspenders. She paired the make-shift dress with stockings and a white jumper. It wasn’t the most exciting outfit, but it would have to do. 

When she reached the common room on her way to the Great Hall, the fifth year girl - _Caroline,_ she thought - was waiting there.

“Hi,” the girl said with a smile. “Are you going to the party?”

Hermione returned the kind expression. “Yes, I’m headed there now. Do you want to walk with me?”

“Thanks, but I’m waiting for a friend.”

“Alright, then, see you there,” Hermione said, continuing past the girl.

Caroline made a small noise in her throat. “Wait, are you really going like that?” She said it quietly, as if doing so would make the question any less offensive.

“I was planning to, yes.” The bite in her tone gave away her annoyance.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just-” Caroline cut herself off, searching for her words. “I have something you can wear, if you would like to borrow it?”

Hermione held her tongue, containing the feminist rant she was building in her head. The girl was only trying to be nice. “I appreciate that, but-”

“It’s no trouble,” Caroline said, pulling out her wand and muttering a summoning charm. “Plus, I’m sure Malfoy will like it on you.” She winked and handed her a bit of slinky, sparkly fabric.

Heat rose to Hermione’s cheeks. Before she could refute Caroline’s comment and return the dress, the girl was bounding over to the staircase, wrapping her arms around a tall, dark-haired boy. 

“See you there!” Caroline said as she and the boy passed on their way out the door.

For a moment, Hermione considered just tossing the dress on the sofa and leaving in what she was already wearing. She teetered back and forth on the idea, but ultimately cursed under her breath and ran back upstairs. 

The dress was beautiful; flowy with a high neck, though it was a little short. Hermione lowered the hem by a few inches with a wave of her wand, and she was out the door again, finally heading to the celebration. 

The heels of her loafers clicked against the hard floor. She breathed, reminding herself that she was Hermione Granger: the so-called _Brightest Witch of Her Age_ ; a war heroine in the Battle of Hogwarts. If she could be either of these things without feeling like them, she could be confident and unphased by the sight of Draco Malfoy, despite her nerves within.

She entered the Great Hall, taking in the sight of the twinkling lights and shiny globes all around the room. Silver and gold stars floated in mid-air below the sky ceiling. A single table holding an assortment of white, silver, and gold candies and desserts was to her right. A tiny dance floor was constructed in the middle of the Hall, and a chandelier-sized disco ball hung before the high table. 

She scanned the room, finding a total of about twenty students scattered around. More trickled in as the night went on, but she didn’t see the blonde head she was so acutely aware she was looking for. The food was wonderful, the conversations were stimulating, and she even shared a dance with a kind, seventh year Ravenclaw. 

By ten minutes to midnight, she had found a spot along the wall on the Gryffindor side of the Hall. She leaned against the stone, just observing the little scattered groups of people talking and dancing. McGonagall was enjoying a treacle tart with Hagrid at the front of the room. 

She smoothed her hands over the sparkly dress, wondering if she was drawing too much attention to herself. When Caroline had seen her wearing it, the girl had nearly flown from one end of the room to the other to sing her praises on how she looked, though she did mention that she had thought the dress was shorter. 

She looked up to the Slytherin side, feeling eyes on her. He was there, leaning against the wall and staring directly at where her hands had just slid over her body. She swallowed. _No._ He wasn’t going to do this. He wasn’t going to play games with her, wanting her from afar, but acting indifferent when she was around. She was _Hermione fucking Granger,_ and if _Draco Malfoy_ could just take what he wanted, so could she.

The sound of her heels clicking against the floor was drowned out by the sound of music and voices carrying throughout the Hall. She marched right over to his side, letting her legs carry her and her mind catch up to what she was doing. 

He had looked away before she left the wall, but his eyes snapped to hers when she stopped in front of him. His lips parted, most likely from his surprise, but maybe because he anticipated what was about to happen. She gripped the sides of his face, splaying her fingers across his jaw, and pressed her lips to his. 

When she pulled away, his eyes were still open and he hadn’t touched her back. 

“It was a game,” he said.

She pursed her lips. “This isn’t a game, this is-”

 _“No,_ it was a bloody _game._ It was the wizards’ version of Truth or Dare.”

Her brow furrowed, trying to catch up with what he was saying.

His voice lowered. “I was Imperio’d to kiss you.”

Heat rose up her neck and to her cheeks. “I see.” She swallowed again. Her brain went in several different directions until she finally spoke again. _“That’s illegal.”_

He rolled his eyes.

She huffed and turned back towards the center of the Hall. Tears threatened to escape her, and she didn’t know why. She figured it was partly from embarrassment. She had never liked Draco before; was never attracted to him. But then one day, it had all changed. And all because of a game. A stupid _game_.

She was halfway across the Hall when the countdown started.

“10”

“9”

“8”

She swiped her palms across her eyes.

“7”

“6”

“5”

The click of her heels echoed in her ears.

“4”

“3”

Her dress mirrored the shiny ball that lowered with the numbers.

“2”

A hand grasped her wrist and pulled her back.

“1”

“Happy New Year!”

_Hands on the sides of her face._

_Fingers pulling at her hair._

_Soft lips crashing into hers._

She touched him back. 

When Draco finally pulled away, he visibly swallowed. “It _was_ a game.”


End file.
